


it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

by lucylikestowrite



Series: skimmons ficlets [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Femslash Yuletide 2014, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 13,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a very skimmons christmas. set in a slightly lighter universe where everything so far in s2 happened but they can all afford to take like the whole of christmas off. also possibly ignoring the mid season finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trimming the Tree

Jemma slides in the Christmas CD, a box full of decorations balanced on her hip. The decorations are her own, accumulated over the years since she left home, and just seemed to have come with her when she joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

As the first notes of Jingle Bells echo through the room, she hums to herself, eyeing up the large tree in the corner. No-one else had seemed that bothered about decorating the tree, and to be perfectly honest, she's quite particular about this bit of Christmas, so she got up especially early just to do it herself.

Early being 10am - she'd gotten used to especially early starts while at HYDRA, but it seems the rest of the team have a different idea about what counts as normal waking hours, and she doesn't expect to see anyone for at least another hour.

She finishes scrutinising the tree, turns up the music slightly, and then draws up a footstool and starts to wind the lights around the tree. That is, until she hears a slight rustling behind her, and spins around so fast she almost falls off the stool.

Skye is standing by the box, palms up. A piece of tinsel has dropped to the ground. "Woah there, ninja. That music was playing pretty loud. How'd you hear me?"

Jemma tries to regain her balance, fails, and dismounts as gracefully as possible, which, as it turns out, is not very gracefully.

"I take Christmas very seriously, Skye," she pauses. "I thought you didn't want to help?"

Skye laughs. "Jemma. I don't think anyone was that averse to helping to decorate the tree. I think they were just a little bit intimidated by your eagerness."

Jemma frowns. Maybe the flowchart she showed them was a little much. She makes a mental note to hide the labelled diagram that is currently sitting underneath a layer of tinsel better.

"And they love you enough to let you have a free rein over it." Skye picks up the tinsel at her feet, and walks over towards the tree. "I love you more, obviously."

Jemma ducks her head, blushing furiously.

\--

"No, no, no. Absolutely not. You cannot put a star at the top of the tree, it is supposed to be an angel. In the plan it is an angel and it has always been an angel."

Skye pouts. "Come on, Jem. Just one little compromise?"

"Skye I have compromised on everything. The tree is an absolute mess!"

"We put one less miniature Christmas parcel on than you meant to. The tree is at least seven feet tall. That is hardly everything."

Jemma crosses her arms. "There is absolutely no way I'm swaying on this. You'd have to--"

Skye kisses her in a way that has, until now, usually been reserved for reunions. After it ends, Jemma stands, eyes closed, a little bit dumbstruck and more than a little bit breathless, for a couple of seconds, before opening her eyes to see a triumphant Skye and a star twinkling above her.

"That definitely wasn't fair."

"I can't help that I'm so utterly breathtaking." She smiles, jumping back off the stool and down to Jemma's height.

Jemma's arms are still crossed, but she's smiling, too.

"I suppose the star does look rather nice."


	2. Holiday Traditions

Skye rounds the corner into the living area of the Bus. No-one else seems to hang out in here any more, but she and Jemma still do. Skye thinks it's probably because Jemma hasn't been here as long as the rest of the team, hasn't acclimatised to the Playground yet, but Skye doesn't mind - it's nice that it's easy to be alone with her.

Two mugs of tea are in her hand - she'd gotten into it when she and Jemma had started dating, and now she's pretty sure she couldn't live without it. She's about to announce her presence when she sees her, and pauses. Jemma is curled up on one of the couches, legs folded underneath her, her head bent over something in her lap, her hair falling over her face. Skye knows how much she hates that, and, as expected, a hand reaches up absent-mindedly to tuck it back behind her ear. It falls back, and she leaves it, and in that moment she looks utterly peaceful and Skye almost doesn't want to disturb her.

But then she looks up, sees her, and smiles, beckoning Skye over.

Skye hands the mug over; when their fingertips touch she gets a little kick, and she feels a little bit like a teenager with a crush. She settles down next to her, and can finally see what she's looking at: a photo album.

A small girl holds a candle with a look of absolute joy; Skye smiles. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's kinda a tradition back where I used to live. There's this carol service on Christmas Eve, and we all go and sing carols and hold candles, and it's really an awful fire hazard, but I think all the children are focusing too much attention on keeping their candles alight to be any danger. It's really rather cute."

Skye's hands grip the mug a little harder. "I never really had any traditions. I moved around a bit too much for that."

Jemma starts. "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I could put this away if you'd like.."

She goes to close it, but Skye stops her. "No. I didn't mean it like that. I liked that story. Also mini you is like, super cute."

A smile breaks across her face, and all it can be described as is sunshine. "I guess we'll just have to make new traditions."

"Yeah, I guess so," she gestures back at the album. "Come on, I want to see more adorable mini Jemma."

She flicks over the page, and there's a slightly older version of her beaming out of the page. "That was when I got the first Harry Potter. And this," she says, turning the page again, "was when our entire family rented a cottage for Christmas, the year I turned five, but it wasn't big enough and so we all had to share beds."

Skye listens contentedly, certain she could listen to her talk for years and not get bored.

\--

Skye is woken, later that evening, by a knock on the door of her bunk. She kinda hates how horribly one-person sized the beds are.

Jemma is at the door, looking far too awake for this time of the night. She brings something out from behind her back, and holds it above her head. Skye looks up and sees a sprig of mistletoe.

She looks back down at Jemma's beaming face, just in time for the kiss.

"Midnight mistletoe! It can be a tradition!"

"Does this mean every night, or..."

"Oh absolutely not. I need a full eight hours, Skye. You'll have to be still be with me next year."

Skye leans against her doorway, smiling. Jemma drops the mistletoe in her hand, and retreats back to her room.


	3. Chimney

Jemma goes up to Skye, her face grave.

"Skye, we have a problem."

Skye reacts immediately, up and ready before Jemma has time to throw her hands out and stop her.

"What is it? Is someone hurt? Has something happened--" She is looking far too panicked, and Jemma wonders if maybe she was looking a little too grave.

"No! No. Not that type of problem. Calm down!"

Skye sighs, slowly sitting back down. "What type of problem is it then, Jem?"

"It's a Christmas problem."

"And what would the 'Christmas problem' be?"

Jemma clasps her hands together, building it up.

"There's no chimneys in this whole building. More specifically, there's no fireplaces - I've had a look outside and there are indeed chimneys, however there are no fireplaces connected to them. I expect they serve the boiler or something similar."

"And this is a problem because?"

Jemma almost gasps. "The chimney is an integral part of Christmas, Skye! On Christmas Eve, you burn your letter to Santa and hang your stockings up; and then in the night he comes down the chimney, eats the mince pies, and leaves little sooty footprints behind!"

Skye grabs one of Jemma's hands and pulls her gently down next to her.

"Look, Jemma, I love you, but isn't that just a little bit juvenile?"

She looks away, indignantly. "I resent that. Just because I happen to enjoy Christmas a little too much, and just because maybe it's something Fitz has mentioned before, possibly every Christmas we've spent together, doesn't mean you're allowed to be rude about it. Fireplaces mean a lot to me. At home, we have this massive stone one, and there's this little bit that you can, quite literally, sit in while the fire's going."

Skye laughs. "You're adorable."

"Oh, I know."

"Come on," Skye says, standing up again, and pulling Jemma with her. "I'm sure we can figure something out."


	4. Sledding

"No. No. No, absolutely not. We are not spending money on that death trap."

Jemma crosses her arms, which is quite hard to do, as bundled up as she is.

"Come on, Jem! It's actually snowed, and this time we don't have to trek through ask forest! We can have fun! Look - I'm wearing gloves," Skye waves her hands adorably. "And they're not fancy tactical gloves, they're actual mittens!"

Jemma smiles slightly, but holds her ground.

"No! It looks dangerous!"

"Coulson gave us the day off! He wants us to have fun! I thought you were like, the Christmas queen?"

"I enjoy the parts of Christmas that don't require you to risk your life. He gave us the day off; he didn't tell us to go and risk our necks on a few slats of wood."

"Seriously, Jemma, I promise it's perfectly safe. I've done it at least... twice, and look! Still alive."

"Two repeats is quite definitely not enough to obtain a satisfactory and reliable conclusion, Skye."

"You are such a nerd."

"And you," Jemma raises an eyebrow. "With all your tablets and laptops and 'hacktivism' aren't?"

"Okay, first off, I didn't come up with that name. It was there before I got there. And second, I never said I wasn't."

"We're still not getting the sled," she sidles off towards the next stall. "Ooh, look, that hat's nice!"

"If I buy you the hat, can I also buy the sled?"

"Isn't that technically bribery."

"I mean probably, if we're being technical. It'll be fun, Jem, I promise!"

"Oh my god, fine!" She throws her hands up. "Buy the sled!"

Skye grins. "The hat's gonna look so cute on you. Just so you know."

\--

"I was right. It's adorable."

Jemma tugs at one of the strands that's escaping from the edge of the hat. "I'm still getting used to it this short. It's weird."

"It makes you look at least one and a half times more badass."

"Is that a compliment, or..."

"They're always compliments."

\--

They've hiked to the top of a ridiculously tall hill - "I thought you said we wouldn't be doing any trekking" - with Skye dutifully pulling the sled the entire way.

"Are you sure it's safe? What if we don't stop?"

"Jemma, have you literally never been sledding?"

"It was completely flat where I grew up!"

"I thought you were born in Devon? That's hilly, right?"

"Yes, but then we moved to Norfolk. There's literally no hills anywhere, it's really quite strange."

"Stop stalling. Just get on the sled."

\--

At the very bottom, Skye tips it slightly, toppling them both off. Jemma looks up, indignantly, brushing snow off of her coat. "I saw that! You did that on purpose!"

Skye shrugs. "You can't pin anything on me."

"No, but I could just shove snow down the back of your coat."

"You wouldn't."

"I absolutely would."


	5. Greeting Cards

There's a knock at the door.

"Can I come in?"

Jemma looks up. "Yes. You can, but..."

"But?"

"Just be careful. Things are a little precarious in here."

The door slides open, and Skye starts at the sight of Jemma's floor.

"How many cards is that?" she asks, incredulously.

"One hundred and eighty. They're arranged by type, and then alphabetically by surname. I have religious festivals over there, and then just general holiday seasons over there."

Skye picks her way through the carefully arranged piles to settle down in a small space that Jemma has cleared.

"Do you even 180 people? Don't you have to be kinda secretive seeing as you work for a secret agency and all that?"

"Skye. I've been sending almost all these people greeting cards at Christmas for about 10 years. If I suddenly stopped it would be suspicious!"

"But do you really need to send so many."

She's even more shocked by this suggestion. "I can't leave people out!"

"Okay, okay, got it! You absolutely need to send 180 greeting cards. Do you need some help? I could write addresses, or put things in envelopes, or I could just be moral support."

"Oh, you're not getting away with just sitting there. You're here now. You got this yourself into this."

She dumps a pile of envelopes and an address book into Skye's lap.

"But I could do with some moral support as well," she says, a hand on the side of Skye's face.

Skye twists a strand of Jemma's hair around her finger. "I love you, you know that, right? Even if you're actually the only person in the 21st century to own an address book."

"If you're just going to insult my frankly adorable address book, I'm not going to kiss you."

"Right. Got it. Out of date address book is adorable."

\--

"Are we nearly done yet? I think I'm getting carpal tunnel from all of this address writing."

"What, and you don't from all that time you spend on your 'gadgets'?" Jemma roles her eyes but grabs Skye's hands anyway to check.

"Nope. All fine. The doctor says there's nothing wrong with them."

"You're not a medical doctor. You're not allowed to just diagnose me like that."

"Didn't stop me from saving your life, did it, hmm?"

"You're still not qualified."

"I think that hardly matters in this situation. Come on, Skye, there's only a few more, I promise."

\--

Jemma takes them to a postbox with Skye the next day, both of them majorly weighed down by the cards they're carrying.

"Seriously, Jem, how are these cards so heavy? They're paper!"

"There's a hundred and eighty of them! It adds up!"

As Jemma labouriously posts each envelope, Skye taps at her phone.

"Did you know, an average greetings card weighs about one ounce, which means we carried over 11 pounds of cards here. That is far too many cards, Jemma."

"First off, you know that pounds and ounces mean nothing to me. They make about as much sense as 'cups', which is why we don't use them any more. And, secondly, maybe next year, I'll cut it down a little. A little!"

"That's all I ask."


	6. Reconciliation

Their first real fight - voices raised, angry hand gestures, and doors slammed - was about something small and insignificant and stupid, and in twenty years, Jemma won't be able to tell you what it was about. She will, however, be able to remember what happened next.

\--

"Simmons, have you seen Skye? She's usually hanging around in here at this time of the morning."

"No, I haven't, Coulson. I understand why you might think that she'd be in here, as she usually is, but as you can see, she isn't, from which you may surmise that we're not exactly on the best of terms right now."

"Right you are, Simmons. I'll look somewhere else."

Jemma nods and smiles a little too enthusiastically. The smile fades as Coulson leaves the room, and she turns back to her laptop. Opening today's flask on the Chemistry Advent Calendar isn't quite as fun without Skye.

\--

"Jemma. I think you should come with me. Now."

"Now, Fitz? But I'm just about to finish this analysis and it's really looks like it's going to be presenting some very interesting results. I mean just the ionic structure alone is incredibly fascinating--"

"No, really, I think you should come with me, right now."

\--

"Skye. What are you doing on top of the Bus?"

"We argued. And you were angry at me because I was wrong, and I didn't like that. And you like big gestures, and I knew you wouldn't come unless you thought it was an emergency, because you're stubborn like that, and so I got on top of the Bus. And then Fitz got worried and came to get you. So it worked, right?"

"I'm not dignifying that with an answer until you come down from there."

"But we're talking, so that's a start, and I can tell you that I'm really very very sorry?"

Jemma sighs. "It was really nothing, Skye. You didn't have to go all..." She gestures at the Bus.

"You say that, but you're not smiling."

"I'm smiling because you're ridiculous!"

"Come on. I bet that the advent calendar was much less fun without me."

"Frankly, that's neither here nor there. And even if it that was true, that doesn't change the fact that I'm angry at you."

"Would that change a little bit if the second part of my apology involved fairy lights?"

"What--"

The lights in the hangar go out. Jemma spins around. The wall that had been behind her is lit up.

"Skye!" her voice is aghast. "It wasn't even that big of an argument! This is entirely impractical!"

When Skye speaks, her voice is suddenly close behind her.

"I know, and maybe I went a little overboard, but it's Christmas and you love Christmas and I didn't want us to be fighting any more."

\--

She'll remember a wall lit up with, "Jemma Simmons, I think I'm in love with you", and a lot of kissing afterwards.


	7. Gift Exchange

Skye drops down in front of Fitz, startling him.

"Fitz. I need help. What do I buy Jemma for Christmas?"

"Okay, first thing, please don't do that again. Secondly, I am absolutely not helping you because that's cheating. And also I want to save my present ideas for my present."

"You can't be using all of them!"

"No, but I'll be giving her the best one and do you really want to be giving her the second best?"

Skye sighs. "That's a fair point. Thanks for being so unhelpful, Fitz!"

"You're welcome!"

\--

"May! I need help."

She looks up at Jemma, inclines her head slightly, then looks back to what she is doing.

"So, is that a 'Yes, Simmons, I can help' or a 'Please go away'?"

"First one."

"Okay. So it's Christmas soon and I'm trying to work out what to buy Skye, but I'm not really sure what to buy her. And I know you're her S.O. and you spent a lot of time with her while I was away, and I was just wondering if you had any ideas."

"My gifts tend to be quite recognizable as my gifts."

"Riight."

"It would probably be better if you chose her something yourself."

\--

"Coulson! Would you be able to help me with so-- Oh, hello Skye."

"Was there something that you needed from me, Skye?"

Skye leans against the wall, arms folded, knowing that she is very obviously trying (and failing) to look casual.

"What? Me? No. I mean, yes, But I don't need to ask you right now. Jemma can continue, it's fine, I'm fine."

"Me? Oh, no. I think it's okay. I didn't really need help." Jemma is also looking adorably flustered, and Skye wonders why.

Coulson is looking incredibly confused. "Right. So if neither of you need my help, I'll just... be on my way."

"Right!"

"Cool. Yeah."

\--

Skye sits down next to Jemma, anxiously biting at her nails.

"Okay, I have to admit something to you, because it's really stressing me out. I can't work out what to get you for Christmas." She pauses, trying to guage Jemma's facial expression. "And I really want it to be something special, because it's our first Christmas together together. But I just can't think."

Jemma's face breaks into a smile, and Skye inwardly sighs with relief.

"Oh thank god. I've been having a little bit of trouble, too."

"So. Idea. We go out shopping together and then we can buy each other something really nice that we know we'll like."

"I like that idea."

\--

"So, you two managed to figure out each other's Christmas presents? Bobbi told me that you were asking everyone and anyone for help."

"Well, Hunter, maybe Bobbi was exaggerating a little bit. It wasn't everyone. Not quite, anyway."

Skye comes up to Jemma's side, glass in hand. "What are we talking about?"

"How many people you guys were asking for help from."

"Oh, yeah," she laughs. "I'm pretty sure we must have asked everyone. I even asked one of those new lab techs at one point. They gave me a kinda weird look."

Lance looks pointedly at Jemma, and she rolls her eyes.


	8. Festive Drinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alcohol tw

"Jemma. What have you done?"  
  
Skye looks in horror at the bowls and bowls of red liquid currently covering most of the surfaces in the (admittedly, small) kitchen on the Bus.  
  
"Coulson put me in charge of food and drink for the Christmas party. I'm not sure if it's because I'm BioChem, and therefore should maybe know something about food, or if he's just being slightly sexist--"  
  
"Jemma. You're rambling."  
  
"Right. Yes. So he put me in charge of food and drink, and I was just testing out the drinks. I was trying to emulate this absolutely terrible champagne punch that my family used to make, but I wanted to make it better. Unfortunately, I quite struggled to get the formula right."  
  
"So you just made about a gallon of it?"  
  
"Yes, that's where it went a little wrong."  
  
"A little?" Skye's voice is incredulous. "What were you planning to do with all of this?"  
  
"Well, I thought we could put some of the better versions in bottles and just refrigerate them for the next couple of days. There are a few versions, however, that perhaps we shouldn't serve up. I think maybe we’ll just have to throw them out.”  
  
Skye holds up a finger. “What we will not be doing, is that.”  
  
“Skye, they’re really bad. Trust me. I’ve tried them.”  
  
“So? Vodka tastes bad. People still drink that.”  
  
Jemma twists at her hair nervously, and mutters something that Skye doesn’t catch.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”  
  
“I said, I wouldn't really know."

Skye raises an eyebrow.

"Stop looking at me like that! I've just never had vodka!"

"If you say so, Miss 'I like following the rules and doing what's expected of me'."

"Your memory is terrifying."

"So which are the bad ones?"

Jemma points to a couple of bowls by her side.

"Right. Okay. We'll siphon the good ones into something they can be kept in, and then we are getting completely drunk on this horrible looking punch."

"Are you really sure that that's a good id--"

"Yes."

"Got it."

\--

"No, but you, Skye, are really very adorable. No, it's true. Especially your fringe. It's particularly adorable." Jemma is slurring slightly, but still managing to sound ridiculously articulate. Skye isn't surprised. Why shouldn't a tipsy Jemma Simmons be just as eloquent as a sober one?

"Is your hair darker than it was before. I'm quite sure that it's darker than it--" Jemma stops, suddenly, staring at her glass with a look of what can only be described as utter confusion. Or plastic cup, as the case may be. "Have I-- Is this my third or my fourth refill?"

"Your second," Skye laughs. "Your tolerance appears to be amazingly low, Jem."

Jemma's brow crinkles. "Are you sure? I'm really quite sure it was more than that, Skye."

"Your festive drink was truly the worst mix of disgusting and potent. I'm amazed you made it through two glasses. I'm not even halfway through my first."

"I love you."

"I know, Jem. I love you, too."

Her eyelids flutter. "I'm also really tired."

"Come on, let's get you to bed. Too many shenanigans for one day, I think."


	9. Holiday Food

"Skye! Wake up!"

Her eyes open, reluctantly, and she props herself up, slowly.

"Jemma. Why are you awake? Why am I awake?" She looks to the side. "It's 6AM. Why are we awake?"

Jemma is, as always, already dressed and perfectly arranged. In fact, if Skye hadn't seen her first thing in the morning more than a few times, she'd swear that was just her natural state.

"It's Christmas Eve, which means the party is tomorrow. Which means that I need to start preparing the food. Everyone's offered to help with all the actual cooking and serving tomorrow, but I said I'd get some of the preparation done today."

"Which means that we need to get up at 6AM, Jemma?"

"I considered letting you sleep, but I thought it was maybe better I had some supervision, after last time..."

"Yes. I remember. It was only a week ago."

"So you'll help?"

Skye sighs. "Sure. Just gimme a minute to be like, awake and presentable."

She kisses her on the cheek. "I love you!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I bet you say that to all the girls who help you make Christmas food at ridiculous o'clock in the morning."

\--

"How is there-- Where were we even keeping all this food?" Skye's eyes are wide.

"Various places. And you can calm down. We're not using all of this today."

"Oh good--"

"Just most of it."

"Fabulous."

Jemma beams. "How exciting is this?"

Skye smiles weakly, and nods, hoping that at some point she'll stop being tired. And that eventually some of Jemma's enthusiasm will rub off on her; for now the enthusiasm levels will be as much as she can muster at far too early in the morning.

"So! What are we making?"

"Well, I thought we'd start off with a Christmas pudding, because it takes hours to cook, and then Christmas cookies, and then maybe mince pies, but that's only if we have the time."

Skye is looking at her in confusion, and Jemma's face rapidly changes from worry to horror.

"Oh no. Please don't tell me that all of those are British things. I already bought the ingredients"

"Okay, so do you want me to tell the truth. I can't tell."

"No, tell the truth." Jemma bites her lip.

"They're kinds British things. I've only really heard of mince pies and Christmas pudding - I've never eaten them."

Jemma's face falls even more.

"No! It can be a British Christmas! I mean, we have you, and Fitz, and Hunter, and I'm sure Bobbi ate British stuff while they were together!"

"Okay. Okay," she lets out a breath. "I'm just glad the man at Walmart persuaded me to get that joint of beef. I guess you guys also don't eat Turkey at Christmas? Because obviously you do it all wrong."

"Turkey's for Thanksgiving, Jem. Obviously."

"Oh, obviously!" She throws her hands up.

"I'm teasing! Teasing!"

\--

"You have sugar on your nose. Also everywhere else."

"I'm well aware, thank you very much, Skye. And you can't talk; you look like you're going prematurely grey."

"But did you know you've also got something on your mouth?"

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

When she kisses her, she tastes, unsurprisingly, like sugar.


	10. Old-Fashioned

Skye throws her tablet down in frustration. "Oh my God. I can't do this any more. I've been stuck staring at trace tables for this one loop for the last half hour, and I--"

Jemma looks up, as if suddenly realising that Skye has started talking. "Hmm?"

"I was just--  Just saying that I am done. I need to get out of here. I'm going crazy with all the screens and not enough space."

Jemma brightens. "I was hoping you'd say something like that. I may have noticed you getting... increasingly infuriated, and it's fair to say that I need some time out of here, as well. And there's this Christmas market that's only about 20 minutes; it really looks rather nice."

"I'm in."

"And I was thinking we should leave the technology here. Go it old-fashioned."

"I'm even more in."

"But no sledding and/or bribery this time, okay?"

"Got it."

\--

"Okay. Wow. This is amazing."

"Have you never been to one of these before? They have one in Edinburgh, and we have relatives up there, so we went up there at Christmas loads. It's absolutely lovely there, and I love Scotland, but... America always seems to go one step further. At everything. These decorations are... pretty impressive."

"It's what we do best!"

"I don't know. I'd say food would be a close tie. For example, I think it's probably essential that I'm eating one of those pretzels as soon as possible."

\--

Jemma is perusing a stall laden to the brim with tiny wooden figurines. Skye is happy standing a little back, holding their bags, watching and waiting. She's not even tempted to look at the phone that they both decided was probably a good idea to bring, just in case of emergencies.

She's never going to become an advocate for getting rid of technology, but it's definitely nice to have a break sometimes.

Especially when it involves being all alone (or as alone as you can be in a really very busy Christmas market) with a particularly charming Brit.

\--

"It's getting kinda late. Maybe we should be heading back at some point, Jem."

"See, I understand that. But also I really don't want to go. It's rather nice here, don't you think?"

A lock of hair falls out of place, over Jemma's forehead, and Skye brushes it back.

"That it is. But the real world probably wants us back."

"But, Skye, does the real world have stalls that sell pancakes and candy floss right next to each other?"

Skye laughs. "Definitely not, Jem, definitely not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> struggled a bit with this prompt, so sorry it's short and a bit crap. s/o to tanzila for the code speak at the beginning


	11. Chocolate

"Nope, not those ones," Jemma says, reaching over Skye to put the box of chocolates that Skye has just picked up back.

"What, why? What's wrong with them."

"They have white chocolate in them." Jemma makes a face.

"And? What's wrong with white chocolate? Maybe I like white chocolate."

"Yes, but we're not buying them for you, are we? We're buying them for Fitz, and I happen to know that, as a sane person, he detests white chocolate."

"I resent that. There's nothing wrong with white chocolate."

"Skye," Jemma says, in a voice that is probably deserved by something more serious than chocolate, "there is everything wrong with white chocolate. It's chocolate for fakers. It doesn't even have any real chocolate in it, for heaven's sake!"

Skye sighs, and picks up the variety next to it. "This better?"

"Much."

\--

Jemma looks at the holiday chocolate selection, sadly. "They don't have chocolate coins here."

"Yeah. I think they're a--"

"British thing. I know. I miss England sometimes. Especially at Christmas. It seems like we do everything differently to you guys. I mean, what even is a Christmas stocking without a packet of chocolate coins and a satsuma?"

"Still a Christmas stocking."

"Yes, but a weird one."

"I think," Skye laughs, "you'll find that you're the weird ones. I mean have you heard yourself lately?"

"Please don't try your British accent again, Skye. The last time you did it was bad enough."

"I wasn't gonna!"

"Yes you were."

"Okay, maybe just a little bit."

\--

They are in the, pitifully small, foreign foods aisle. Jemma grabs as many chocolate digestives as she can.

"Are you really sure you need that many?" Skye asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Chocolate digestives are an essential part of British life, Skye, and I've been deprived of them for far too long. The last time I came, I bought one packet, and they were gone in a week. And then, the next time, they didn't have any in. I'm not risking that again."

"Okay, okay! Buy the cookies. It's Christmas you get to treat yourself."

Jemma stares at her, witheringly. "They are not 'cookies', they are biscuits."

"Biscuits sure as hell don't look like that, Jem."

"They absolutely do."

\--

They sit, surrounded by shopping bags, in a café down the street from the supermarket, mugs in front of them.

"How did we manage to disagree that much about chocolate? I didn't even know there was anything to disagree about!"

Jemma sips at her drink.

"At least we can both agree about hot chocolate."

"Yeah, we can agree that it was a disaster that they didn't have any marshmallows, right?"

Jemma looks up, aghast.

"Marshmallows in hot chocolate are the worst, Skye!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, short and not very good, purely because I rushed it oops


	12. 12 Days Of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda a part one of two with tomorrow's

"The Twelve Days of Christmas?"

Jemma is scrolling lazily through the results that YouTube returns when you search 'karaoke Christmas songs'.

"No! I hate that song!"

Jemma looks up, surprised. "That's an awfully strong reaction to a Christmas carol! What have you got against it? It's fun! And we want fun for the karaoke night."

"Fun is not the word I would use for it." Skye almost shudders.

"Okay, there has to be a story here."

"Let's just say, I once spent the holiday season in a care home with a head care worker who possibly loved nothing more than that song. She was obsessed with getting all of us to sing it. Perfectly. Seven year old Skye spent hours and hours being forced to memorise it perfectly. It has a ridiculous number of tricky words in it, let me tell you. Twenty five year old Skye doesn't ever want to hear that song again."

"So does that mean you can sing it off by heart?" Jemma seems incredibly excited at the prospect of this.

"Obviously. I don't think I'm ever going to forget it."

Jemma stays silent.

Skye raises her eyebrows. "Are you waiting for something?"

"You can't just say you know it off by heart and not prove it, Skye."

"I don't think you can just make up the rules like that." She pauses. "Anyway, you're forcing us all to sing tonight. There's no reason why I should be subjected to that horror twice in one day. Or, more to the point, why you should be subjected to it more than once in a day."

"No, don't say that! I'm sure you'll be great!"

"Jem, I appreciate your support, but this is not self-deprecation. I am literally terrible."

Jemma makes a non-committal noise. "We'll see about that."

"Unless you are planning on somehow altering my vocal cords, I promise I'm going to be terrible."

"Yes, but you're still going to do it, right? All the normal people are having office Christmas parties at the moment, and I know we're not exactly normal, but I just wanted to do something vaguely unextraordinary."

"Come on. Like I'd miss out on the chance to see the entire team make a fool of themselves singing Christmas songs."

"The entire team? You even persuaded May to join?"

"I think she's got a bit of a soft spot for us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so bad so bad i'm so sorry i've struggled with these past few i really hope it's not like this for all the rest


	13. Holiday Carol Karaoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part two of two with yesterday's

Jemma and Skye are sitting on the couches in the break room, having just watched Fitz butcher his way through 'Silent Night'. Hunter is now drunkenly attempting to sing 'Last Christmas', his gaze intensely focused on Bobbi, hands gesticulating wildly along to the song.

Bobbi is looking on, wryly, one hand cradling a tumbler. Jemma can tell that most of the time she is trying not to smile.

Coulson is trying to convince May to duet 'Baby It's Cold Outside' with him. May is adamantly refusing. 

"... it's creepy, Phil..."

Jemma turns to Skye, who is very obviously trying not to laugh out loud at Hunter's rendition.

"I agree with May, you know. It is creepy. Maybe we shouldn't have put it on the list..."

"What? Sorry. I was too focussed on," she gestures vaguely at the front of the room. "Whatever's going on up there."

"'Baby It's Cold Outside' - it's got a sort of, worrying feel to it, if you know what I mean?"

"What, as in, you're terrified of the thought of Coulson singing? Because I get that feeling."

The music reaches its crescendo. Hunter wails his was through the last chorus, and for a moment they are both distracted, laughing. Bobbi finally smiles.

"No, but I know what you mean. It's kinda weird."

Bobbi has dragged Hunter out of the spotlight. Jemma looks expectantly over at Skye. "Up you get! Your turn!"

"Oh yeah? Wasn't this your idea? Shouldn't you be showing us how it's done."

Jemma laughs, and folds her legs beneath her, solidifying her place on the couch. "Certainly not. You first."

"What's in it for me?"

"You get to pick my song?"

"Deal."

\--

Skye was right - she is pretty terrible at singing, but Jemma hardly even notices - and only a little because of how buzzed she is.

There's just something really rather nice about people singing love songs to you, Jemma realises, and Christmas love songs are even better.

The song is coming to a close: Skye is singing "All I want for Christmas is you..." and pointing directly at Jemma and it's all very cheesy and ridiculous and Jemma loves it.

Skye comes to sit back down, and Jemma kisses her, quick enough not to be heckled by the inevitable shouts to get a room - Jemma hasn't spent a year with these idiots to expect them to be mature, and she loves that.

"That was amazing."

"Yeah. Amazingly bad; you don't have to be nice just because we're a thing."

"Yes I do."

"Well. You're not going to want to be nice to me after I make you sing my song."

"Oh? What is it?"

"It's pretty bad." She pauses, as if for dramatic effect. "I've loaded it up on the laptop. You just have to hit play."

Jemma stands up, slightly reluctantly, and moves over towards the laptop, then taps the mouse pad.

The first notes of 'Santa Baby' play.

"I'm expecting dance moves!" Skye shouts, unnecessarily loudly, from the back of the room.


	14. Re-Gifting

"Okay. What on earth is this?" Skye has pulled something out of the box in her lap, her face suspicious.

"It's one of those, you know, things," Jemma says, gesturing vaguely, while not actually looking up; her face is intently concentrated on the notepad that she is balancing on her knees.

"Jem. Maybe try looking up."

"Right, right." She finishes writing, puts her pen down and looks up. When she sees what Skye is holding, her face lights up in recognition. "Ah! That! That's one of those fancy head massager things. Frankly, I find it absolutely horrible - that's why it's in the box, but I guess someone might like it. My cousin sent it to me a couple Christmases ago."

"You gave your cousin a S.H.I.E.L.D. address?"

Jemma looks up, affronted. "Of course not! There's an address in Massachusetts that I give my family - I just get everything re-routed."

"So can we give it to anyone?"

Jemma bites her lip. "I'm not sure it would be suitable for anyone here..."

"Got it." She picks out the next object from the box, a book with a title that she wouldn't even want to try to pronounce. "So. This... chemistry?"

"Biology."

"Biology book. Where did this come from?"

"Fitz, five years ago, bless him." She smiles in a way that has always been reserved for her best friend. "I didn't have the heart to tell him that I already had a hard cover version, signed by the author. So in the box it went."

"Is he going to remember that he gave you this?"

"Probably. His memory can be scarily accurate." She pauses. "Plus, I'm not entirely sure that there's anyone here quite as interested in that particular subject as me."

"Maybe not." Skye sets it aside, moving on. "And this? It's cute! You'd look nice in it! Why is it in the box?"

Jemma's face darkens as she takes in the sweater Skye is holding up. "Oh. We don't have to talk about that. Let's just put it aside."

"What, why?"

"It's nothing!"

"Jem?"

"Look, if you must know, it was from Ward."

Skye's face falls.

"I put it in the box after... everything happened, and I meant to take it out. I'm really sorry, Skye, I should've just gotten rid of it."

"No, it's fine." Something passes over her face, as if just remembering something, and she gets up. "I have to find something."

"Oh. Okay."

She returns a few minutes later, a small box in her hand.

"He got me this. I'd almost forgotten about it, because I don't really wear charm bracelets. I guess he didn't really try that hard to get to know me, after all." A mischievous smile on her face, she looks from the sweater to the box she's holding. "I kinda want to do something drastic."

"Like?"

\--

Jemma looks at the small bundle of orange flames flickering at their feet.

Skye turns to her, a slightly worried look on her face. "This wasn't too drastic, right?"

"I think when someone betrayed everyone you care about, you can reserve the right to burn the Christmas presents they gave you."

"We didn't do too well on the re-gifting, though, did we?" Skye says, huddling in a little tighter, squinting at the darkening sky.

"We've got time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like ward did actually canonically give skye something for xmas but also i don't know and i cba to look it up so. also i've got back into my groove this came so much easier than the last few


	15. Roasting Marshmallows

"No, I'm sorry, you promised." Skye crosses her arms.

"Yes, that's entirely true, Skye, but I did promise yesterday. And I didn't exactly expect that we'd wake up this morning and quite literally be snowed in to the Playground, did I?"

"And? I never got the girl scout experience. If you promise me roasted marshmallows over the remnants of gifts of Christmas past, I expect roasted marshmallows. I don't care if maybe the fumes from the burning nylon messed with your head a little bit, and if maybe I took advantage of the fact that you didn't notice that it was obviously going to snow."

"Well, I'm sorry I wasn't able to activate my precognition, how was I supposed to know that it was going to snow? And why would you make me promise if we knew we wouldn't be able to?"

"Because you're really great at making the best out of bad situations. And I kinda didn't fancy standing outside for like an hour trying to get a fire going."

"It doesn't take that long!"

"Well I said I never had the experience, didn't I? So are we going to make it happen, or not?"

"You are ridiculous. And know exactly how much influence you have over me."

\--

"Ta-da!"

"Okay, and you're the one who said that I'm ridiculous." says Skye, taking in the Bunsen burner, and the packet of marshmallows and cookie jar next to it.

Jemma's face falls.

"Joking! Joking!"

\--

"Okay, so once they're melted, you have to get a biscuit out of the tin-"

"Cookie out of the jar, yes."

"Biscuit out of the tin, and then you have to kinda slide them off of the the stick thing, and then in between them."

"Okay, first off, I do know how it's done. I've seen enough movies about summer camp. Secondly, I'm pretty sure you're using the wrong type of cookie. This doesn't even remotely resemble a graham cracker."

"This is what we used in Brownies."

"Well you were obviously using the wrong thing."

"I doubt it."

"America invented the s'more - I don't think we can do it wrong. So obviously you were doing it wrong."

"Stop arguing and use the bloody digestive."

"You're adorable when you're annoyed."

\--

"Are you sure it's safe to be eating in here? Didn't your science teacher tell you to never eat in the lab?"

"It's perfectly safe, thank you very much, " Jemma says, indignantly. "Anyway, isn't it really a little too late to be asking that?"

Skye shrugs, another s'more already halfway to her mouth. "Just checking."

\--

"You have marshmallow in your hair. And on your nose. And on your cheek."

"Oh, really? Well, did you know that you not only have it in all of those places, but also on your forehead? I'm not actually sure how it got there, but it is."

"Come on, like I'd get marshmallow on me. I'm far too civilised for that."

"Are you saying I'm not civilised?" Skye stands, one hand on her hip.

"Well, I can certainly say you're not very attentive - your marshmallow is currently combusting."

 


	16. Jolly

Jemma drops down on the couch next to Skye, a plate in her hand. "Biscuit? Hunter just made them. I'm not entirely sure how edible they are. I think he's trying to impress Bobbi."

Skye is silent, her face stony.

"What's wrong? It's almost Christmas!"

Skye stares down at her fingers, intertwining and unwinding them, her chest rising and falling steadily.

Jemma waits, entirely wary of pushing her for answers. She takes a biscuit for herself, presses one into Skye's hand, and sets the plate down, drawing her knees up under her.

They sit there, in silence for a little while longer, Jemma slowly making her way through the, really rather large, biscuit in her hand; and Skye, scrutinising the one in hers, as though it might be about to jump out at her, and finally giving in and taking a bite. They make their way through their first ones, then Skye, wordlessly, takes another. Jemma follows. They're surprisingly good.

Eventually, Skye speaks. "How do you do it?"

Jemma frowns. "Do what?"

"Stay so..." she stops, as if searching for the word. "Jolly?"

Jemma laughs. "I'm not sure anyone uses that word seriously, any more, dear."

"You know what I mean. How do you keep smiling and thinking about Christmas and happy when everything that's happened has happened? Last year Ward was a good guy and we were almost a thing, and then he was HYDRA, and most of the time I'm fine, but sometimes I just see things that remind me of what he did, and I don't know what to do, Jem. I don't know what to do." Her lip starts to shake, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes.

"Okay, no, we certainly can't have you crying on..." she counts the days in her head. "Christmas Eve-Eve-Eve-Eve-Eve."

Skye smiles weakly, and Jemma reaches over to wipe the drops away with the tip of her thumb, before reaching down to slip her hand in Skye's, and pulling her up.

"Come on. Let's do something to make you a little more--"

"Jolly?"

Jemma glances sideways at Skye, who is smiling a little bit more now.

"Sure. That."

\--

"Okay. Did you really mean to buy twenty Santa hats?"

"Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to spread the Christmas cheer and give one to everyone?"

"I would've if you hadn't started that sentence that way."

Jemma shrugs, and pulls one of the hats down onto Skye's head. The brim slides down over her fringe and her forehead.

"And did you mean to buy them in size extra extra large?"

Jemma pulls on down over her head, laughing. "In my defence, it said one size fits all, and I was in a hurry!"

"What, and so you just happened to be on some sort of bulk buy website?"

"American websites are really very confusing, Skye."

"Yeah, whatever." Skye gathers the remaining hats in her arms. "Let's go put these hats on everyone and really annoy them."

Jemma hesitates in the doorway. "So you're feeling a little better?"

"How could I not after finding out that the nerd I get to make out with is also a Christmas hat hoarding nerd?"

"That's the spirit."


	17. Red and Green

"Stop!"

Skye starts, a hand almost at her lips, the bowl in her lap spilling everywhere.

"Okay how did you sneak up on me like that? How are you always doing that? And also why am I stopping? What have I done?"

Jemma sits down next to her, and picks up one of the tortilla chips, scrutinising it.

"What on earth is this thing that you were about to put in your mouth, Skye?"

"A tortilla chip?"

"I can see that, I'm not blind. I'm just... a little confused. Why is it green? Why are there red ones?"

"Why shouldn't they be green or red?" Skye smiles innocently.

"Skye, tortilla chips are absolutely not meant to be red and green. It's weird."

"You're chip-ist."

"That's not a thing, Skye."

"It is when you're discriminating against Christmas tortilla chips just because of the colour that they are."

"That's ridiculous, and you know it."

"Absolutely isn't," Skye says, smirking. "I thought you were all about the holiday spirit?"

"I am!" Jemma says, her voice raising slightly. "But not when it involves unnecessarily unnaturally coloured tortilla chips!"

"They're not unnecessary, it's entirely necessary! Otherwise people might think you'd forgotten it was Christmas, and that would be a disaster."

Jemma frowns, her eyebrows knitting together, glaring daggers at the bowl of regathered chips. Skye notices her line of vision.

"You want one?"

Jemma turns her gaze back to Skye, her face stony.

"If looks could kill..."

\--

Skye wanders into the lab a little later, music blaring out of her iPod.

"Could you turn that down a little? " Jemma says without looking up, her face concentrated on her work. "It's a little bit distracting, Skye."

Skye doesn't even seem to be surprised that Jemma could tell it was her without looking. Probably because she's the only one who dare disturb the great Jemma Simmons at work.

"So, it's not just red-colored chips that you're against?"

"What?" Jemma says, distractedly, still focussed on her work.

"You're also against songs about the color?"

Jemma finally puts her pen down, and listens to what is being played, the look of confusion on her face turning into one of understanding as she hears the lyrics being sung.

_'Missing him was dark grey all alone_  
 _Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met_  
 _But loving him was red_  
 _Loving him was red'_

"Right. I see what you're doing. Frankly, it's hilarious." She pauses, and grabs the iPod, flicking through. "Red's good, you know, but I'm more partial to All Too Well. I like the chorus."

Skye raises an eyebrow. "So you're a secret Taylor Swift fan?"

"I never said it was a secret. You just never asked." She puts it down, and crosses her arms. "So what, am I going to be sprung with green-themed music when I least expect it?"

"I couldn't find any. Or any that was relevant and not about forty years old."

"Good."

"Fine."

"I'm still against weirdly coloured tortilla chips, you know."

"I'm not sure if we're going to be able to get past this difference of opinions, Jem."

Jemma shrugs, struggling not to smile. "I'm not sure if I can date someone who willingly eats things that look like they could kill you just by eating them."

"That's a shame, because I've already ordered you a multi-pack of them for Christmas."

"You're ridiculous," Jemma says, lightly shoving her out of the door.

"No, you are, Little Miss Swiftie."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> partly written for tanzila who challenged me to get tswizzle in, on the day it was easiest to do so. it wasn't a challenge at all.


	18. Family Photo

Jemma is sitting in the corner of the room, Skye by her side watching as the whole team relaxes together for what seems like the first time in forever. Everyone is always so busy, whether it be with Christmas business or actual S.H.I.E.L.D business, that it's rare to see them all in the same room except for briefings.

Seeing everybody together, laughing and chatting and having fun, it just makes her want to preserve it. She knows all too well how much things can change in such a short amount of time; how you can lose people you thought were friends; how relationships can change so dramatically - from friends to more than that, and from best friends to the slightly more distant she and Fitz seem to be now; and how you can have new friends, that weren't there before but now seem so essential and normal.

She stands up, unnoticed by everyone but Skye, who inclines her head in question. Jemma shakes her head, silently, then slips out, and returns a few minutes later with a big camera in her hand.

At first, she moves around, taking pictures without anyone noticing, but she quickly feels eyes on her. She spins around to see May glaring at her, her eyes narrowed. 

"I don't appreciate people photographing me without my consent, Simmons."

"Oh. I was just taking a few photos as mementos."

"Which I think is a great idea." Coulson has noticed what is happening, and has stood up and come over. "In fact, I think we should take a photo of all of us."

May turns her glare on Coulson.

"We've got to have some sort of photo of all us, May, seeing as none of us are going to be with family this Christmas."

\--

"Is it balanced yet, Jem?" Skye asks, waiting for Jemma to join her in the group pose.

"Almost!" Jemma lets go off the camera slowly, hoping that it will stay where it has been precariously balanced. She sets the timer, presses the shutter, and then runs into place.

\--

After the flash goes off, they all gather round the camera, squinting  at the minuscule display. 

Skye is in the middle, her arm wrapped around Jemma and their   cheeks pressed together. On Jemma's right is Fitz, half smiling, and half eyeing the couple to his left.

Behind him is Mack, arms crossed and smiling, and Bobbi, beaming radiantly into the camera. To her left, Hunter is openly staring at her, although Jemma isn't sure if it's in disdain or adoration. At this point it could be either. 

Finally, Coulson stands in front of Skye, smiling in a way that reminds Jemma of her father. May stands to his left. Not smiling.

"So. May." Jemma starts. "Do you think we could do another one and you could--"

Skye nudges her. "Don't push it."

"Listen to your girlfriend, Simmons. Don't push your luck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More team fic than skimmons specifically, but I think I got enough in for it to still count as femslash.


	19. Home for the Holidays

It's Christmas day, and in the middle of the afternoon, after the main course has been eaten, and everyone is resting until it's time for dessert, Jemma quietly exits the room. She's really very good at doing that without anyone noticing.

Skye follows her, but is pretty sure that that was what Jemma was expecting. They make their way back to Jemma's bunk, and when they get there, Jemma pulls out her laptop. Skye knows her well enough to know that this isn't just her being anti-social, so she sits while it turns on, waiting for an explanation.

Jemma keys in her password, then sets it aside. "I'm Skyping my parents. I haven't seen them in over a year, and they worry about me so much - not that they know that I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., they just don't understand America and are convinced it's horribly dangerous, which I suppose it is, quite - but they like to talk to me every so often, and they so wanted to talk to me today, because of it being Christmas and all."

"Over a year? You weren't tempted just to go AWOL - go home for the holidays?"

"Only for a few minutes. Then I realised that I couldn't possibly leave." She shrugs. "There's too much work and too many people here that need and rely on me and I can't possibly just up and leave.

The laptop has booted up, and she opens up Skype, then clicks call. While it connects, she turns back to Skye, a slightly guilty look on her face. "They don't know about. Um. Us. Yet. And I kind of want to tell them something like that in person, because I think they might be a little surprised." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, not quite meeting Skye's gaze. "Frankly, I think they probably thought I was going to end up with Fitz, I mean I really have no idea why, but--"

"Oh, yeah, I've got no idea why anyone would possibly think that." Skye's voice is dripping with sarcasm.

"Okay. So maybe the whole best-friends-always-hanging-out-together thing might have had something to do with it, but it's not like we ever dated!"

"Doesn't mean it never looked like you probably would." 

"Just. Don't tell them, okay? Or show them!"

"No making out with you in front of your blissfully oblivious parents. Got it."

The call finally connects, a man and a woman coming slowly into focus.

"Hi Mum! Hi Dad! Happy Christmas! How are you?"

The woman speaks. "Oh, we're good, sweetheart. Missing you, but we're used to it." She quints into the camera, as though only just noticing the other person in the frame. "And who's this, Jem?"

"This is my... friend, Skye." As she says it, she squeezes Skye's hand, out of sight of the camera. "She doesn't have a home to go back to this Christmas, either. So I thought I'd bring her in on the call."

"She's really awfully accommodating, your daughter."

 

 

 

 

 


	20. Star

A couple of nights before Christmas, Jemma and Skye pack up one of the cars in the Garage with a linen closet's worth of blankets, multiple Thermos' of tea, and two folding chairs, and drive.

They drive away from the city that the Playground is in, past big towns, and then smaller towns, and finally villages and smaller collections of houses, not stopping until the stars are brighter than they ever are normally.

When they get stop, and get out of the car, it is colder than they expected, but they brought the blankets for that exact reason, and so they set up the chairs, wrap the blankets round themselves and each other, and hold the Thermos' in their gloved hands. Their breath is visible each time they exhale, and their eyes are bright and their cheeks rosy under the brims of the hats they wear.

For a while, they just sit, drinking the tea and staring and appreciating the endless sky, the stars so bright against a backdrop that seems both darker and more blue than usual. This is something they have wanted to do for a long time: the late night drive and the star gazing and the loneliness - everything is always so hectic and busy back at the base - there is always someone around the corner.

So, sitting there, they both enjoy the feeling of being able to focus on just a few things, or even just one thing: no matter where Skye looks, her gaze always seems to fall back on the north star, shining brightly from very centre of the sky.

"It's called... Polaris, right?"

Jemma follows Skye's gaze, focussing in on it. "That's right. I've always had a bit of a soft spot for it. It's constancy - it quite appeals to me. It's almost romantic, I think. Sometimes they call it the guiding star - it's almost like something out of a fairy tale." She pauses, smiling down at the flask in her hand, and Skye is suddenly desperately happy that they are doing this, because it feels so intensely personal, just them two.

Jemma continues. "It's part of--"

"Ursa Minor. The bear one. I never got that. I never really saw the similarity. It looks more like a wobble than any type of animal. Maybe they should call in Wobble Minor." She tries to keep a straight face, and fails, and they both burst into laughter, the sounds of their laughs echoing away into the nothingness that surrounds them.

\--

When they drive back, far too late in the night for it to be sensible, alternating driving so that neither of them falls asleep, they drive almost directly south. Whenever either of them looks in the mirror, it is there, behind them, continuing to shine as brightly as ever, guiding them home.

 

 


	21. Making Ornaments

"Jemma, what on earth are you doing? Also, why am I always asking that?"

"I'm making us some additional Christmas ornaments, thank you very much. And you're always asking me that because I'm obviously just a creative soul and you're too narrow-minded to see the genius behind what you perceive as madness."

Skye sits down on the opposite side of the table to Jemma, staring warily at the pile of assorted arts and crafts materials in front of her.

"And you're using shiny card and mini pom-poms and tinsel for what, exactly?"

Jemma mock gasps, or maybe really gasps, Skye's not quite sure yet. "Are you saying you can't tell? Isn't it obvious." She says this sarcastically. Probably.

Skye plays along, leaning forward, her chin in her palms. "Funnily enough, I don't speak crafts. Please, enlighten me."

"They're going to be atoms!" Jemma says, beaming. "The shiny gold card is going to be the entire atom, and then the red and blue pom-poms will be the protons and neutrons in the middle. The tinsel is going to be the electron shells, and I think I'll also use it to hang them up. The green pom-poms are going to be the electrons."

Skye leans backwards, laughing. "Wow, Jem. You've- you've really out-nerded yourself this time."

"Fitz thought it was a good idea."

"Fitz would think anything you said was a good idea."

Jemma inclines her head in agreement, then picks up a pair of scissors and slides them across the table. "Come on, get chopping." Skye stares at the scissors, balefully, and when she makes no move towards them, Jemma picks them up again, and places them in Skye's hands. "You didn't think you were going to get away with just sitting there and watching while I did all the work, did you?"

"Well, I mean, it was your idea--"

"Do you know how many different elements there are, Skye?"

Skye, who had reluctantly picked up the scissors, and had been looking like she was about to start doing something, looks up in alarm. "Yes, I'm aware. You're not planning on making... each and every... single one, are you?"

"Well, obviously," Jemma says, her face entirely straight. "What's the point of an incomplete periodic table"

"Oh." Skye looks down at the scissors in her hands, her face slightly traumatised

Jemma breaks into a smile. "I'm teasing, I'm teasing, calm down!"

"Oh thank god. So we don't have to make like 100 separate sparkly atoms?"

"118, and no. I mean, I considered it--"

"Of course you did."

"But in the end," Jemma continues, "I figured that maybe the first twenty or so would be enough work. And enough mini pom-poms. I wasn't sure how many crafts supplies I could buy before Coulson noticed I wasn't technically paying for them myself."

"Got it," Skye says, fully drawing her chair in. "Come on, let's make some officially S.H.I.E.L.D-funded Christmas elements, then."

 


	22. Childhood Memories

Jemma sits down next to Skye, who is staring intensely at her tablet, her brow furrowed.

“Hey.”

Skye looks up. “Hey.”

Jemma sits there, silent for a few seconds, her lips pursed, trying to think how to say what she wants to say. “You know how, yesterday… you said that you didn’t really have any traditions? And I know we did the thing with the mistletoe--”

“Yeah, you waking me up in the middle of the night, I remember,” Skye says, smirking.

“But,” Jemma continues, “I realised after you said that, that I still know hardly anything about you. Maybe not Christmas traditions, maybe you don’t have any of those, but I don’t know much about much of your childhood. I mean, I don’t think anyone here really does, so it’s not that I’m jealous or anything, I just… I just want to know more.”

Skye sets the tablet down, not angrily, but maybe angry adjacent. Or maybe it’s just sadness, going from the way her mouth has set.

“I told Ward.”

“Oh.” Jemma isn’t sure what else to say to that.

“I told Ward so much.” She laughs, bitterly. “I don’t even know when I had the time to tell him so much, but I did. And then he turned out to be a traitor and killed our friends and our colleagues, and now I’m terrified to open up that way again, to anyone. I’m sorry.”

Jemma places her hand over Skye’s, and laces their fingers together, smiling.

“That smile,” Skye says, her own face breaking into one. “It always makes me feel better. I promise I’ll tell you more about myself. Just maybe not quite yet.

“Okay. Just tell me if there’s anything else I can do to make you feel a bit better, just tell me.”

“Well, I can think of one thing,” Skye says, a finger already under Jemma’s chin.

When their lips press together, they are still smiling.

\--

Skye tells Jemma little things, at seemingly random times of day and nighy. Jemma learns, first thing on a bright Saturday morning about a week later, that the first Christmas Skye can remember is the Christmas she was five - the family she stayed with was nice, but not in the end - they let her go like all the others.

The next day, as she works in the lab, Skye sits on the bench next to her, swinging her legs and telling her about the time she almost went with her foster family on holiday to England over Christmas, but was called back at the last minute, moved on in a flurry of paperwork.

Last thing at night, Skye tells her about the first time she ran away, how she was in California and it wasn’t cold at Christmastime, just lonely.

On the way out to shopping, the story of how she had her first kiss under the mistletoe with a cute guy named James who was her then-neighbour. On the way back, how she had her second one with his even cuter cousin named Melanie the next day, and how she got moved back into the system pretty quickly after her foster parents saw.

The things she tells Jemma make her want to laugh and cry at the same time, but it seems like they need to be told, and Christmas seems like as good a time as any.


	23. Workplace Party

"We know that is certainly a bit... strange being at your place of employment at Christmas, but S.H.I.E.L.D has always been a place that takes you away from your families, so we like to celebrate it as best we can." Coulson sits, ever the patriarch, at the head of the table. "Now, as some of you are probably aware, Simmons is responsible for planning the large majority of today's festivities, so let's raise a glass to her."

Jemma a few seats down from him, blushes furiously. "Oh, it wasn't really that much. It was really just some food..." She trails off as everyone looks at her.

Skye, next to her, continues. "And the drinks. And the decorations. And the tree, and she organised the karaoke, and she organised this entire party."

"No... really... it was nothing." 

As the attention turns back to the food, Jemma turns to Skye.

"Why did you have to make a fuss like that?" She hisses.

"Because you deserved it! All you've done for the last few weeks is plan. You're far too modest."

"Okay can we move off of this subject now, please? How about we do crackers. Crackers, anyone?"

The Brits around the table pull them eagerly, donning the hats and telling the jokes. The Americans are slightly more wary, but eventually join in, and soon there isn't a bare head at the table.

At the end of the meal, after the desserts have come out - they go down well, despite Jemma's fears that they'd be too British to be well received. 

And then after the meal, when everybody has rested, the music goes on, and the drinks come out in full force, and by early evening, everyone is a little bit tipsy and more than a little happy.

Jemma and Skye sway on the dance floor - or the little space in the break room that has been designated a dance floor. Hunter has persuaded Bobbi to dance with him, and they cut a fine figure, even when the dances they are dancing are a little out of time.

Fitz is dancing with a technician from the lab, and Coulson and May are attempting to do some sort of ballroom dance, by the looks of things.

Skye pokes Jemma. "Look up."

Jemma raises her line of sight to see the mistletoe hanging above them. She raises an eyebrow. "Did you put those up? I didn't."

Skye smiles. "Maybe."

"Were you steering us this way?"

"Maybe."

"I love you," Jemma says, kissing her for longer than she usually would in a public place. "Thanks for making Christmas so nice."

"You're welcome. Anything for you, Jem."


	24. Sleepless

The door to her bunk slides open, and Skye looks up, half-asleep, confused. And then Jemma appears in the doorway, pyjama clad, and definitely not as asleep-looking as Skye feels.

"I couldn't sleep."

Skye props herself up on her elbow, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "What are you, twelve?"

"And a half. And cold," Jemma says, walking into the bunk and making her way underneath the covers, shoving Skye back towards the wall.

Jemma's toes touch Skye's bare leg, and she starts. "Okay, you weren't kidding about the cold. How long have you been wandering around for?"

"About 20 minutes. Well. I couldn't get to sleep, so I walked around for about half an hour, then I went back to bed, and I still couldn't sleep, so I got up again and walked around a bit more, and then I came here."

Skye stares at her, disbelieving. "It's Christmas Eve, and you can't sleep. You are quite literally a small child." She stops, finally taking in what Jemma is wearing. "And you're wearing Christmas pyjamas?"

"Don't act like you don't love the snowmen."

"Yeah, sure, they're adorable..."

"... but?"

"But the person wearing them is much cuter. Even if they happen to be invading my very small bed in the middle of the night when I happened to be sleeping."

"Oh, is that the way it is? Should I just... go, then?" Jemma says, starting to rise up out of the bed.

Skye pulls her back by the sleeve of her shirt. "Don't you dare. You've woken me up, now, you can't just leave." Jemma tumbles back onto the bed, ungracefully, and in a split second, Skye's hands are tangled in Jemma's hair, and when they kiss she feels even more awake.

\--

Eventually, they fall asleep like that, legs intertwined, squashed together to fit in a bed entirely made for only one person, and so when Jemma wakes up, Skye's face is inches away from hers, and looking utterly peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, that she doesn't want to move and wake her up, even if it is Christmas morning.

Or, at least, that's how she felt when she first woke up. Half an hour later, she's feeling more bored, and less altruistic. And so she talks the only mature course of action, and starts poking Skye.

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."

Skye stirs imperceptibly, and Jemma slows the poking. "It's Christmas. Wake up!"

"Nooo. Jem. No. Stopping poking me, Jem Jem. Jem. No."

Jemma stops, suddenly. "Did you just call me Jem Jem?"

Skye's eyes snap open, horrified. "No."

"Yes you did."

"You misheard."

"And you say I'm the childish one."

Skye groans, and attempts to roll over, desperate to be out of the line of sight of Jemma's judgement. "I've had like three hours of sleep, Jem, gimme a break." Failing at rolling over, she sighs and meets Jemma's gaze.

"Never." Jemma is staring at her and struggling to keep a straight face.

"You can't just let it go, just this once, for Christmas?"

"Not a chance, Skye Skye," Jemma says, cheerily, bouncing out of bed and out of the bunk, leaving Skye behind, still not quite awake enough to be entirely sure what just happened.


	25. Resolutions

The day after Christmas, everyone sleeps in late.

The earliest anyone stirs is just before noon, and, unsurprisingly, the "early" riser is Jemma.

She makes herself some tea, then sits, in front of the tree, reminiscing about decorating it, what seems to be a forever ago.

And reminiscing about the beginning of December seems to lead to thinking about the rest of the year, and everything that's happened - good and bad.

And this leads her on to resolutions. Her resolutions for next year, but more importantly, her resolutions from this January.

This is how Skye finds her - when she eventually wakes up - in front of the Christmas tree, pensive as can be.

She comes up behind her, looping her arms around Jemma's neck, and kissing her on the cheek. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" She says, sliding down to sit next to her.

"Resolutions. I was thinking about the resolutions I made last New Year."

"And? What were they? Did you manage them?"

"I only succeeded in one of them, if that's what you mean." Jemma pauses. "Well, strictly I only had one, but..."

"Oh? What was that?" Skye is intrigued.

"You." She says it devastatingly simply.

Skye wasnt expecting that. She'a not sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't that. She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, then just lets Jemma continue.

"I wanted to tell you how I felt. But then things kept getting in the way."

"Like me almost dying."

"And you and Ward. And then me almost dying. And me leaving."

At the mention of Ward's name, Skye screws up her nose. "I need to stop thinking about him. I think about him and he makes me so, so angry or sad, sometimes, because we almost had something."

Jemma rests her head on Skye's shoulder, and the day melts away in a haze of leftovers and naps.

\--

They bring in the New Year with the rest of the team, kissing amidst a sea of couples doing the same.

A little later, twenty minutes into 2015, they are secluded in a corner, only half focused on the tv in the corner.

"Have you thought about new resolutions?" Jemma asks.

"Not really. I've never been very good about planning ahead. Probably because I never knew how long things would stay the same for."

Jemma smiles, sadly. "Nothing's going to change here, Skye, I promise."

Skye smiles back. "I wish I could believe that, Jem, but you can't promise something like that. Anything could change - and you know that as well as I do."

"Well, I'm going to try my hardest not to let things change for us. That's my resolution."

And maybe that will be good enough. Maybe hope and a resolution and a multitude of stolen kisses will be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially, this is the end of the femslash yuletide prompts, but tomorrow is the free day where you're meant to fill any prompts you missed, but obvs I didn't miss any. so I think I'll think up something for tomorrow. V pleased with myself for almost finishing this.


	26. Epilogue: Christmas Sweaters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an additional, not-official prompt given to me by my friend, and as such, can be counted as a kind of epilogue for femslash yuletide.

The problem with living in a secret base is that you have to keep it, well, secret. Which means that you're not allowed to order things from the internet and have them delivered to the inconspicuous warehouse in the middle of Nowheresville, Virginia which doesn't look like anyone should be living in it.

Unsurprisingly, the team does sometimes want to shop via the internet, and so a happy medium was reached - PO boxes were opened at local post offices spread across the city, each member of the team having their own.

The downside of this set-up is that the PO box isn't easily reachable, and as such can easily be forgotten about - even when at one point one knew that one was expecting something. And so, it's hardly surprising that when Jemma Simmons wakes up one morning, and suddenly remembers about her own box on January 2nd, that there is a package waiting for her that's been there for over two weeks.

\--

When Jemma returns from her trip into town, she is bundled up in a scarf, gloves and a hat, and with a rather large and ungainly package underneath her arm.

Skye looks up from the magazine she's perusing as the door opens and she enters, her face rosy and looking more than a little put out.

"Who died?"

"What?" Jemma says, distractedly, trying to pull of her outer layers without dropping anything.

"No, nothing, I just... Why do you look so angry?"

"I'm not angry, as such, I'm just slightly annoyed." She has finally extricated herself from her coat and accessories, and sits down next to Skye, the package in her lap. "I ordered these ages ago, and with all the other preparation for Christmas, I completely forgot about them. They've been sitting in my box since a couple of days after I ordered them."

"And they are..."

Jemma sighs. "See for yourself."

Skye opens up the packages to reveal two horrifically ugly Christmas sweaters. Impressively, ugly, to be quite frank. They are each made of at least ten different colours of wool, and include multiple embellishments - including bells that literally jingle when the sweaters move.

Skye bursts into laughter. "Did you think you were going to get me into one of these?"

Jemma shrugs. "I was going to try?"

Skye is still laughing, occasionally shaking the sweater she is holding, and laughing even harder when it jingles. "You know, I probably would've worn it. If you hadn't forgotten about them."

Jemma buries her face in her hands. "Don't make me feel worse! I already feel bad! You were meant to hate them and tell me you wouldn't possibly have worn yours, and then I'll feel better about having forgotten them."

"You're adorable and you need to stop worrying. You pretty much single-handedly organised Christmas - I don't think we can get you for forgetting one thing."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Jemma pauses. "Can we wear them anyway."

"Only for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did ittttt. 13,000 words. 26 days. #done


End file.
